


A Tremor in the Force

by ElfMaidenOfLight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Force Bond (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Romance, Star Wars: Resistance Reborn, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker - Allegiance, awkward space virgins, shared powers, training through the force, two halves of one whole, weakened powers, ying-yang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 02:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21046544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfMaidenOfLight/pseuds/ElfMaidenOfLight
Summary: When the seams stitched between them would gap, letting through what little murmurs it could, something else rode that wave. A power that had been eluding them, taunting them; running from their grasp.As a new threat begins to move against the galaxy, Rey and Kylo wrestle with the knowledge that when apart, their powers seem to wane. It is only when the Force slips through their defenses, brings them together, that they once again feel whole.





	1. Chapter 1

He didn’t understand what was happening. 

He couldn’t _focus._

It was like sand sifting through his fingers, more so now than ever before. Even after he turned his saber on his own father. 

No. Kylo closed his eyes, trying to focus on the cool steel door of his chambers against his back. Not that. Don’t think about that. But when he closed his eyes, all he could see was her face staring down at him, impassive. No hatred, no fear, no compassion. Disappointment, maybe. Not at him. At herself. For thinking she could have helped him. And that was worse.

His hands shook, waves of confusion and fear spiking into rage. The Force quivered around him, rattling the contents on the desk in the corner. He pushed, lashing out with the full extent of his power, but the data pad resting there scooted minimally on the desk’s smooth surface. Like he’d barely nudged it at all.

Kylo howled in rage, stalking over to the table, grasping the damn thing in his fist, and hurling it against the wall.

\---

I’m broken, she thought, staring at her upturned palms resting on her knees.

Every day it was farther away. That hum. That spark. The righteous power she felt coursing through her while beating back Preatorian guards; the elation she’d felt at moving those rocks and freeing her friends from certain death.

Even meditating with Luke’s saber, broken in her lap. Even pouring over the texts. It was slipping away from her, like trying to keep water held tight in her hand.

Rey shook her head, trying to clear it, but when she closed her eyes, all she could see was his face. Mournful. Like he knew what was about to happen. Knew how the closing of the Falcon’s door would trap him once again in some dark, windowless room of his own creation. 

She wanted to hate him. She wanted to seethe with her hatred. Sometimes, when she let herself feel it, the Force would ignite and she would be brimming with power again. But she couldn’t stay angry at Ben, and so the terrible power would fade, and she’d be left hollow. Cold.

Alone.

A sound behind her made her jump, like something small and breakable had smashed into the wall behind her. Whirling around where she sat on the floor of her small room on the Falcon, Rey expected to see… something.

But no. Nothing.

Rey frowned, slowly standing, eyes searching the room for broken glass or twisted metal and found not a panel out of place.

Auditory hallucinations now too? Not a good sign.

\---

It happened in bits. Little grains that slipped through, falling from the sky and pinging off control panels, rolling along the floor to rest under cockpit chairs.

She had shut him out, and he had not gone searching for her, but it was happening again. Just barely enough at first that they didn’t even realize. It only grew, enough to make them turn at the sound of some door sliding open halfway across the galaxy, or make them duck at a training staff whizzing overhead, searching only to find the room empty. Only then did they both understand. And it was completely out of their control. 

Rage filled him. Despair welled in the pit of her stomach. They could feel it in each other, even if they couldn’t see.

It wasn’t _fair. _

But deep down, whenever the seams stitched between them would gap, letting through what little murmurs it could, something else rode that wave. A power that had been eluding them, taunting them; running from their grasp.

Being filled with such a delicious hum, only to have it ripped from you moments later, it wore them down.

As much as he wanted to resent her for leaving; as much as she wanted to curse him for staying.

In the end— in their exhaustion, their solitude, their loss— they just couldn’t fight it.


	2. Chapter 2

“I know you can see me.”

She said nothing in response, instead focusing intently on the pile of dirty, oily rags she’d been sorting only moments before. 

He glared for a moment before forcing himself to let it roll off his back. As offhandedly as he could muster, but knowing he was needling her, he muttered, “I don’t understand why you keep reaching out if you have nothing to say.”

“I am _not_ ‘reaching out’!” Rey barked, whirling around on the balls of her feet to confront him, expression fierce.

His brow rose a fraction in recognition.

She seemed to pale, then flush, realizing her mistake. Turning back away from him, she grabbed at one of the rags with a fury.

“Stop spying on me,” her frustration was clear in the low spit of her tone.

“And you?” He inquired, trying to keep his tone level and the emotion out of his voice. The anger, the fear, the pride, the loss, the pull and the push and the— “Showing up unannounced? After _months?_ Spying on _my meetings?”_

The first time it happened after, _really _happened, aside from those first echoes in the dark after Crait, she’d appeared in the back of a conference room, reading something in her lap and desperately trying to hide her sudden shock. She had the brilliant self-awareness to casually try and shield her face with a hand. Like she'd suddenly found herself in a crowded library. Like she wasn’t some splash of color upon an entirely black canvas. Like he _couldn’t see her. _He'd felt an exasperated, disbelieving sound try and punch its way out of him, in front of the entire company of generals. 

The clench of her teeth was nearly audible. “I _told you_, I’m not spy—”

“And neither am I,” he cut her off sharply. She was so damn… _exasperating. _But in a way that made him feel more human, like this was the kind of annoyed that normal people felt. “I would rather the Force rid me of your constant interruptions,” he added into the quiet room with a bit of self-serving loft.

Rey snorted at that, still giving him her back. “I’m probably the highlight of your entire, miserable day.”

Pain lanced through him.

It was true. Certainly, when they had conversed during her time on Ach-To she’d been a… comfort. She’d been a brightness, bleeding light into whatever room she’d come to occupy.

And now? After Crait?

She’d abandoned him. Like Luke. Like his parents. She’d turned her back and returned to the enemy. And yet she’d let him live. Armed him while he was unconscious.

Seeing her was a twisting pain in his gut. A reminder of his failure.

And yet…

The highlight of his entire, miserable day.

Beneath all the mutual anger and distrust, all their frustration at the other’s stubbornness, the force had swelled, forcing open the door that had been deliberately shut between them. That _she _had shut.

Across the room, she went very still, shoulders pulled upward as if wincing. Slowly, with a calming breath that washed over even him, she relaxed her posture. “I… I thought this was supposed to be finished,” she said at length, “but then it started again. In little slivers, pushing through.” That dreaminess in her voice snapped away when she realized she’d opened up to him again. “It's a damn distraction. Running from the First Order isn’t exactly a vacation, you know. We’ve been pretty miserable too, if it makes you_ feel_ any better," she added as an accusation."

“It doesn’t,” he admitted, suddenly exhausted, like the brightness of her had uncorked all the tension in him. He felt like sliding down the nearest wall, but resisted the temptation.

“Like I can believe that."

"Fine."

"That's _all _you have to say? _Fine?"_

Kylo closed his eyes. He didn’t care if she kept rambling on like this, in her scolding tone. Just as long as she kept talking. He let her voice wash over him, that frightening light of hers hot enough to burn; warm enough if he kept his distance. Like always, because he couldn't help himself, he let it closer. Let it banish some of the fatigue. Along the ripple came a flood of power, refreshing and all-consuming. It made the roof of his mouth tingle, like a long draught of water in the desert.

She turned then, finally, leaning against the back of a small table. It’s fuzzy shape made clearer as she touched it. “I can feel when you do that, you know.” She wasn’t looking at him, staring instead at the floor, voice full of frustration. “I couldn’t before, but I can now. It didn’t disappear. I couldn’t shut it out. It only gotten stronger.”

He could feel her irritation, but too the acknowledgement of what it felt like, like this. Something lost that had been found again. There was a flutter of relief there, something that beat against her breast that he too felt against the inside of his ribcage.

His curiosity was piqued. He straightened his shoulders. “What can you feel?”

“Isn’t it obvious? That _feeling;_ when you feed off the force like that.

He chewed on his next words, trying to work out what to say. “You do it too.”

“I _do not_.”

“That’s a lie.”

She bristled. “_Excuse me?”_

He blinked, not understanding her obstinance. “Of course you do it. You’re doing it right now. You do it every time this happens, just like I do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He darkened. “_Rey.”_

“_Ben,” _she intoned back, in a voice made to mock him, but there was something in her gaze. A shield. An unwillingness to admit something she couldn’t. He recognized her reluctance; reached out toward it.

“Don’t,” she warned, feeling him brush against her mind. He stilled his advance, but even at such distance the Force grew taunt and vibrant at the proximity of their powers, making them both seize in awe.

Kylo swallowed nervously, pulling back, and as he receded so did the cresting wave that had built between them.

“I thought... I thought Snoke did this,” she said at length, when she could speak again.

“I’m… not sure. Anymore.” He flexed his hand, feeling a weight there in his abilities. Something he’d missed over the past few months. Back, because of her. Was she the same? “Do you…” He looked up, catching her gaze, swallowing his pride. Because he _needed_ to know. “Do you feel... different after the bond closes." He worked his jaw, almost unwilling to add, "Weaker?"

Rey narrowed her eyes. “Why? Are _you_ weaker?” He sighed, feeling immensely tired. But after a moment of contemplation, she added in a small voice, “_I_ am.” Rey chewed on her bottom lip, trying not to look at him. “It’s like I can’t think, can’t focus.”

“Like something’s missing,” he added, shaking his head, brow knit.

Silence yawned in the space between them, before—

“Please, Ben.”

His whole body went taunt at the tenderness in her voice. The desperation. The strength of her emotions rolled onto him like he’d drown in it all.

She took a small step towards him. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” he said quietly, resisting the urge to step away from her.

“I don’t have the luxury _not to know_. I _need _my power to help my friends. To evade the First Order. To keep us _alive_.” She was invading his personal space now. He tried to steel himself, shield himself from her, but that roiling, wonderful power only filled him faster the closer she came.

Rey suddenly stopped, unable to take those last few steps lest that thrumming, peaking,_ shimmering_ feeling unmoored them both.

Somewhere, in the swim of it all, Kylo recognized echoes of such a feeling... back in Snoke's throne room, when they fought as one, terrifying force.

She felt it too, he realized, watching her rake in a shuttering breath. He could see goosebumps on the skin of her upper arm as he could feel a skittering surge race up his spine.

He swallowed. “It’s—”

“Incredible,” she breathed.

“_Inconvenient,”_ he corrected, although his voice was more breath then he would have liked. Rey gave him a frown; almost a pout.

“Well,” she said matter-of-factly, “we have to fix it_._”

“_Fix _it?” His skepticism was thick. “How. The Force is not something to be _fixed_. It’s meant to be harnessed by your will.”

“Like this? The Force bringing us together? That’s your _will,_ is it?”

Kylo glared at the woman in front of him, but it lacked any real bite.

“This is something else, Ben, and you know it." She seemed to swell with possibility. "It’s bigger than the two of us. It’s—"

She winked out of sight, like a bubble that had burst. With her went that elusive power, and the rest of his strength.


	3. Chapter 3

He was no fool, at least in this. He knew the moment it had changed. When the galaxy had folded in and compressed itself into bringing their hands together; delicious, liquid fire roaring within them both.

She knew it, too. That’s why she had come to him, delivering herself with, in his opinion, astoundingly little self-preservation.

Sometimes, with a bitterness burning up the back of this throat, he wondered if their visions really were the same, in the end. It was just their determined paths _to_ that end, off which they both refused to stray, that kept them from divine totality.

He huffed, hands twisting where they clutched behind his back. Hux shot him a look as they stood on the bridge, the shorter man’s eyes flicking up from where they skimmed the data pad, paused in his report. 

“Am I boring you, sir.”

Kylo didn’t answer the non-question. “Continue.”

General Hux looked down again at the dossier, but he couldn’t conceal the ever-so-slight sneer that wrinkled the bridge of his nose.

“It seems other systems have indeed heeded your warning. There have been no reports of the Resistance finding safe harbor. As for Fondor, the power vacuum left by your… _removal _of their head of state has led to riots, particularly in the sectors of Order-controlled shipyards.”

Not ideal.

“However,” Hux continued, “the most viable candidate to take control of their senate is indeed a First Order sympathizer. We have been awarding supporters of his senatorial bid with coveted trade contracts to assure his victory.”

Better.

His thoughts strayed to how alone they must feel. _She_ must feel. No friends. No safe place to lay their heads. The lash of his loneliness licked up his spine, and he was pleased for a moment; now she knew how keen the strike could be.

Except… amid those brief flashes of her past; the knowledge that she’d been alone far longer than he had. It roiled a strange, sick feeling within him. Her eyes were accusing in his mind, and he was desperate to hide from them.

It had been _weeks_ since they’d been pulled together, but her face never faded. It was as sharp and as clear as before. Her lips parted slightly,_ “oh,”_ at that snap of electricity, the Force, humming between them.

“Supreme Leader.”

Kylo can _feel_ how much it pains Hux to utter those words, the revulsion and… _something else _that’s wormed its way through the General, enough to return Kylo’s attention to the bridge.

“Anything else?” He asked simply, trying to discern just what Hux was attempting to hide from him.

No, not ‘hide’. _Hidden. _Not even Hux’s doing. Something— someone— had concealed a thought, a notion, a _feeling_ from his grasp.

“That is all… sir.”

“Then you are dismissed.” Even as he gave Hux his shoulder, Kylo tried brushing against the other man’s mind. Not deep enough to alert him. Not deep enough even to penetrate the outer surface. He held his distance, far enough from the flame to feel only the barest of heat.

It was dark. Cold. Unlike even the blue-lipped chill of Starkiller.

Goosebumps broke out along Kylo’s arms, the back of his neck tingling with dread.

It was treachery, not doubt, but it was cloistered away in Hux’s mind by a powerful force.

Hux gave him one last glance before turning to stalk off the bridge. There was malice in that look, surely. Jealously and mistrust. Hate, even. All easily read there in the man’s aura alone. But that darker thought, _the plot_. Unknowable.

But _why? Who?_

Hux he could deal with, Kylo had no doubt about that. It was the other force that worried him.

Such thoughts nipped at his heels as he made his way down the corridor of his ship, retreating to a quiet place to think, and it was as if he were treading upon upturned earth. Each new spiral of mystery sent him deeper.

Something was out there, moving against him, and he couldn’t see it. Could feel it, but barely. Was it because of how drained he’d felt as of late? How disconnected from the raw power of the Force? Ever since she’d attempted to close herself off from him…

One moment he’s chewing on his bottom lip, making turns around the deserted viewing deck _trying to think_ about this new, damnable problem, gloves off and hands carding nervously through his hair— and suddenly she’s there, across the room, her surprise morphing into pure, undiluted rage.

It caught him totally unaware. No tremor in the world that surrounded them. No dialing down of sound, like they’d both gone deaf save for the livewire hum of the Force vibrating around them. It was unconscious now. Like a pair of invisible hands had grabbed hold of them and pulled them into the other’s pocket of space.

The howl of her wrath actually stunned him for a moment, and he flinched back as she unclipped the saber from her belt, igniting it and rushing at him.

It happened so fast.

The realization that their bond had once again pulled them together.

The flip of her emotions, from surprise to anger.

The sudden hum of her saber.

_The _saber, no longer broken but whole in her hands.

And then she was upon him, and he barely had time to ignite his own blade, defending himself at the last possible moment.

He didn’t even have air enough in his lungs to make a noise of surprise.

“Do! You! Even! Realize!” She punched out each word with each thrusting blow. “The! _Chaos! _You’ve! Created!”

He parried her advance, pressing back, and when their blades met at a temporary impasse, the swell of energy around them blew out like a gale, toppling over objects in the room, blowing back both their hair. It’s a surge of vitality that ripples from where their sabers meet and spit, and it warms his core, injecting him with an all-encompassing sense of completion.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spat with a new flush of vigor.

As he presses her, she presses back. “You’re disrupting whole systems! Just because people _talk to us?_ They didn’t even offer us assistance! They _turned us away!”_

He let her saber push down on his, taking the stalemate off the table, sweeping his blade down in an arc to come up again, which she blocked with a swift parry. His was not exactly a killing blow, and he doesn’t know why, but… he doesn’t want it to be. The Force was no doubt stronger with her there, and he eagerly drank it the feeling, even though his skin and the air around him.

Maybe if he just…

She evaded him before he even decides to make his next move, lashing out, but there’s a feign hidden there; he can see it in the way her eyes don’t focus for a moment.

Right there, before she started her new barrage. She… wasn’t really trying to hit him?

She’d been training, he thought with some measure of satisfaction. She’d be even more troublesome now, with a decent heft of practice under her belt, but he couldn’t ignore the little niggle of pride at the back of his mind. The corner of his mouth quirked up, just a fraction.

He wasn’t practiced in all the forms. He’d never had much time to train in each of the old styles, instead hybridizing what he did learn into something he could use, but he did remember enough of the basics.

Repelling her with a hefty push gave him time to reorder his footwork, and time to see the look on her face had changed from anger into something else; a twinkling determination, bordering on something good-natured and _hungry_.

The feeling of power flurrying around them made him lightheaded, almost giddy, like a bit of the oxygen in room had been replaced by sizzling bands of magnetism.

And she felt it too. 

He advanced forward, moving through the forms of attack, hitting all the open spaces that she immediately filled with bouncing deflection. This time, she didn’t try bashing his weapon away, but anticipated his next move, meeting him blow for blow. Their feet danced around each other, spinning them like a fiery pinwheel; the light from their sabers bathed the room in a red-blue glow for their shadows to throw themselves upon.

Her defensive moves walked her back into the wall, but his last overhead cut was stayed and pushed away, and then suddenly _she’s_ running through attack moves and _he’s_ defending. She’s strong, and in her exchanges are flourishes; a twist of her wrist and an arc in her step that he recognized as his own. The knowledge skittered white-hot down low into the pit of his stomach.

Rey let out a sudden, energetic, “hah!” and he has to jump out of the way of a too-close thrust that caught him off guard. He realizes that he’s grinning.

The Force overflowed in them; running down their arms and legs into the very molecules of the floor and back up again. A connecting circuit that only seemed to gain in strength as they spared.

His back was suddenly against the opposite wall. Still, he draws her in, ducking and twisting them around so _she’s_ the one who’s slammed into the cool steel, and yet she seemed to anticipate this, kicking out, connecting the heel of her foot against his abdominals. The wind is knocked out of him, and he stumbles back, foot catching the edge of an errant cylinder or spare part, some storage item sent rolling from their shared whirlwind.

He fell back, trying to use the Force to cushion his fall, but she pounces, _onto him_, and he loses focus, back connecting hard against the ground, saber arm thrown wide. He’s flat on the floor and she’s straddling him, her blade brought up close under his neck, yet she moves no further to harm him.

And with that it’s over. As quickly as it began, it’s done. The room is quiet, save for the hum of their lightsabers and the heaviness of their breathing. The wicked smile of victory on her face is mirrored in his own as their chests heave for air.

He’d been bested by her. Again.

“You—” He gulped down a lungful of air before being able to speak properly again. “Your form has improved.”

She smirked, twirling the saber in her hand before disengaging the blade. “_And_ I mended the broken hilt.” She paused for a huff of breath, eyes crinkling. Unconsciously, she’d bent forward, hovering over him, skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. “Did you feel that?! It was incredible! I’ve _never_ felt that Force that strong before! Like it was in every part of me!”

He nodded weakly as he turned off his own saber, but the shifting movement snapped him back to the reality that she was _on_ him, pressing him into the floor. She was right up close, her weight warm around his waist. With a fluttering feeling, his gaze flicked down to where the fabric clinging to her thighs splashed stark white against the black of his trousers. Her eyes followed his, confused for a moment, before she _realized_, and flushed so thoroughly the color ran down to her collarbone. 

“Oh! I, er— sorry!” She was up in an instant, and Kylo’s surprised at the sudden loss of heat, an embarrassed noise escaping from behind his clenched teeth. 

“I— I realize I got a little carried away!” Rey babbled, nervous, clipping her saber back to her belt.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled back, trying not to look at her, laying there for a moment and staring at the ceiling. He attempted to gather his wits about him; tried to grapple with how the Force took away a piece of him the moment she was gone and how he _missed_ her for it.

Letting out a shaking breath, he lifted himself off the ground a bit on one arm, only to find an outstretched hand being offered.

“It was a good fight,” she said, a small smile pinching her lips together. “I was mad. I needed to hit something."

“You’re _still_ mad. At me.”

“Yes, I am. But, it was…” she made a vague gesture with her other hand to her hilted saber. “That was good practice.”

He whorled his tongue against the roof of his mouth, jaw clenching and unclenching, before taking her hand to hoist himself up.

At the contact, skin against skin, a ripple passed between them; shot through to their very core.

Rey almost lets him go, almost drops him, but holds firm, like the electricity has cleaved their palms together. After a heartbeat between them, she helped Kylo to his feet.

“You’re right,” he said at length, their hands still clasped together; the Force sizzled around them. “This is different.”

Rey breathing is hard again, like she’s trying to get a hold of what’s passed between them. “The Force… It feels like I can do anything. _Fly_, if I wanted to.”

He’s not sure if the swooping feeling in his stomach is from her imagining them lifting off the ground, or how warm her fingers were in his, but he knows with sudden clarity that he does not want to let go.


	4. Chapter 4

“It’s getting stronger, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer her right away.

He’s sitting with his back against the wall, one knee bent; she’s sprawled out in front of him, arms flung wide, back flush against the floor. Her gaze, trained upward to the ceiling— or whatever is above her, where ever she is— swings eventually over to look at him. He watches a rivulet of sweat run down her neck.

“It’s becoming… a concern,” he concedes.

She snorts, breaking their gaze, tongue darting across her lower lip. He wonders briefly what she sees; what sky hangs over her.

“More than that.” Her body scrunches and elongates like a cat, working out the kinks, and he bows his head so he doesn’t have to watch. “It’s creeping,” she continues, thoughtful. “Like ink. Like a dark—”

“Enough,” he says, tired. They’re both wrung out. Another training session, where they’re at each other’s throats and it’s fleeting and the Force is growing and it’s peaking between them in a cresting wave that lays them low upon the ground as it inevitably recedes.

Rey turned then, propping herself up on an elbow to look at him. “You still won’t tell me? What it’s about?”

Kylo pinched the bridge of his nose. She was persistent to a fault. Couldn’t they just have _this?_ Training and becoming stronger together? Exploring the power they shared? He had a dreadful suspicion exactly what, or _who_ the creeping darkness belonged to, but did he want to drag Rey into it?

“I’m going to figure it out eventually,” she stated with unbridled cockiness. “When you run out of options and come asking me for help, then you’ll have to tell me.”

A growl tried to force its way up Kylo’s throat, but he strangled it into a small, bitten sound instead. “_If_ I need your help.”

Rey rolled her eyes as she rolled up onto her feet. He could feel her disbelief and stubbornness rippling in the force, his words a pebble that created waves of frustration. She didn’t voice her feelings though, and he got the distinct impression that she didn’t want to start another argument. Instead, she turned and offered him her hand, by now a familiar gesture, almost as routine as their sparring.

Kylo took it, hauling himself to his feet. At their connecting came that surge, the Force humming through both their bodies. He still marveled at the feeling, even after all these months.

He tried to let go, but she held on firm. He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I _can_ help you. That’s what _this means_,” she gave his hand a squeeze, and it felt like she was constricting around his heart instead.

“I know,” he said quietly, trailing off.

“Then why do you keep shutting me out?” Rey took a step toward him, their joined hands trapped between both their bodies.

Kylo gave her a knowing, if begrudging look. He’d felt her swimming around the edges of his mind, trying to peer inside at just what he was keeping from her, but he’d held firm so far.

“It’s not your fight,” he said. _Not your family,_ he thought.

It was a darkness for _him; _for everything that had passed down to him by curse of birth.

Emotion moved over her features. Anger, determination; sadness, and fear, for him.

“Even so, you don’t have to face it alone,” her voice was achingly, painfully soft, and he didn’t think he could back away from her even if he tried; even as she leaned in closer. Looking up at him, her eyes were wide and imploring, lips slightly parted.

His breathing shallowed. “Rey—”

“This is _right_. I _know it is. _And I know you feel it too.” Her eyes dropped, gaze flitting to his mouth and up again. “Let yourself have something for once. Not something you _take _from others, but something _given. _Ben. Stop fighting it so damn hard.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. Perhaps he was going to tell her he couldn’t. Tell her he didn’t know how. Not with everything that had happened; Luke, Snoke, his father. The desperation and the loneliness. What good had been _given_ to him? What strength did he have that he did not fight, and scrape, and claw away for himself?

He had no opportunity for any of these rebuttals; before he could sort the tumult of emotions and memories into words, she’d leaned up and kissed him.

At the warmth of her mouth on his, the force burst within them, intense and shiveringly sweet. He could hear Rey’s little huff of contentment over the rush, even as a muffled groan rumbled up from his chest.

It was as if she’d cut through the dark undercurrent of doubt in his mind. That must have been it, the reason he acted instinctually, without hesitation as to _what they were doing,_ when he crooked his head, parted her lips, and deepened the kiss.

Rey bowed into him, his free arm circling behind her waist. She let him tilt her head and take possession of her mouth, before turning the tables and tasting him herself.

When they broke apart, breathless and trembling, Kylo had to rest his forehead against the crown of her head, closing his eyes to steady himself. He could feel the puff of her warm breath against his throat.

“Don’t do this,” he said weakly, muffled.

“What?” She was defiant, but her voice trembled. “Care about you?”

He swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

“It’s too late for that now. It’s too late.” Emotion rose like tears in the back of her throat, bleeding a frantic note into her voice.

He pulled away, their bodies separated but their hands still clasped. He huffed, a single, small puff of breath laced with pain. “I’m only going to disappoint you. Again.”

Rey shook her head, reaching up with her free hand to push back the hair that had fallen over his face, stilling her fingers behind his ear.

“I know that you think what you’re doing is right. My offer still stands. I wouldn’t want to help you if I didn’t believe in you. We can change things, but not like this. Not by withholding from each other.”

Kylo furrowed his brows. “I don’t understand _why—”_

At that Rey laughed, a short, sweet sound though a soft grin. “Sometimes you are an _absolute_ idiot. You _still _don’t—?” Her eyes widened; Kylo was mesmerized. “It’s because despite everything I’ve told myself, everything I’ve tried _not_ to feel, I couldn’t stop it. I ended up falling—"

The universe unbent itself, pulling them back into their own corners of space, her voice breaking off like the sudden cut of a transmission cable. The loss of her was the most painful he’d experienced thus far, enough that a noise of surprise and frustration shot out of him at her sudden absence, echoing his agony around the practice room. Kylo’s hand kept clenching around nothing, as if he could will the feeling of her back into existence. His heart pounded in his chest. He could hear it in his ears. Absently, he touched where she had kissed him.

Damn it! Damn the Force; this bond…

So… what? She cared for him?

_I ended up falling…_

He went still, immobilized with the thought.

She loved him.

Heat flared within; sweetness and a surprise bolt anger. Then she was a total fool. More of a fool then he’d initially thought… wasn’t she?

Wasn’t he?

Once again, she’d been the stronger one, about to admit to him what he had tried to deny himself. The reason he was drawn to her; _cared_ for her.

Resolve coalesced in the pit of his stomach. Even more cause to not telling her of his plans. Of his intended flight to _that_ planet. She’d be in more danger than she already was and he… he couldn’t—

The force flickered within him, embers where there had been a burning fire.

Besides, who knew what the future would bring? The next time they met, they could very well be enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so ready for this movie I can barely stand it.


End file.
